The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

A New Start

Trigger Warning-Somewhat Scary Ending

The celebrations ran on late into the night, and would have gone into the early morning if Lakshman had not, with a sensible mind, loudly hit an ancient Chinese gong (which no one knew existed, but apparently it was in the corner all along). At that, everyone startled, and monkeys started running all over the place till Sugriv blew a whistle slung around his neck loudly, and the entire army gathered in front of Ram again.

Ram folded his arms behind his back as Lakshman discreetly snuck into the crowd again, removing his flower crown and multiple garlands, placing them lightly on the cots. "We may be celebrating because some of our major enemies were defeated today, but Ravan, Meghnad, and all his tricks still remain. We have made our way past so many adversaries, and we cannot afford to lose our drive now," Ram looked around.

There seemed nothing but murmurs of agreement in the mass of heads full of brown fur. Hanuman, the massive one amongst the monkeys, put his chainmail crown back on, and Sugriv adjusted his necklaces, rubbing the side of his neck. There were a few seconds of awkward silence, before it seemed collectively agreed that everyone needed to either get their sleep, or do their work.

The Healer monkeys paced back towards the sides of the cots, removing the decorations and partying materials off the injured vanars reluctantly. The guards and watchmen positioned themselves at the entrance of the tent so that they could watch (no, I thought it was sing) leaving only the major army generals awake as the army proceeded to their own mats and beds again. Rishabha scratched his neck with his long fingernail before walking towards the beds himself.

Mainda and Dwivida exchanged a look as Vibhishan set down his tea on the table, folding his hands together tightly, knuckles whitening. "Now that Ravan's sons are dead," he began, closing his eyes tightly for a moment, and in that second, Ram was fleetingly reminded that these were his nephews, people he had probably helped raise, seen grow up. Vibhishan may have seen these warriors since infancy, how their pure minds were soon corrupted.

"Now that Ravan's sons are dead," Vibhishan tried again. "-I don't know who he shall send next. He still has plenty of skilled warriors left, but Ravan isn't one to de-escalate. The specialized warriors who are still in the court will not go out on their own, because there is no possible way they're better than the ones he sent out today. He knows that if you defeated his sons, it would be a waste of time and men to send them out on their own."

Ram leaned in as Vibhishan paused. Ram was a patient person, and he exhaled as Vibhishan shut his eyes wearily. It was not the wise demon suddenly hesitant to convey information. It was merely the knowledge that had suddenly become clear, the knowledge that his entire family would die. Everyone he had grown up with, the infants he had seen transform into brainwashed demons. Despite their bitter, unrighteous acts, they were his family. And they would die by the hands of the man sitting in front of him.

Vibhishan was the pure epitome of treason, for wasn't treason betraying trust for another movement? And wasn't Vibhishan family, the most trusted group in the court. And hadn't Vibhishan been ready to betray all of their secrets to a movement which would exterminate his race? Vibhishan inhaled loudly, and Ram leaned back, suddenly needing his own cup of tea. It seemed that it was going to be a long night.

-----O-----

They were awake all night, but that wasn't particularly unusual. Ram did not know how many nights he had spent these past few weeks, awake, unable to sleep. It had turned the skin under his eyes even darker than his complexion, and every time he closed his eyes, he felt closer to succumbing to the enrapturing grasp of sleep. It took immense physical strength to be able to open his eyes again, and let light flood into the wishful darkness.